Friends
by webmeister
Summary: A short humourous story in which Ron and Hermione exchange letters over the summer. Set after GoF.


Friends  
  
Ron mumbled under his breath in short explosive bursts, waving his arms  
about frantically. His tattered robes flapped around his skinny wrists with  
each chopping motion. As muttered, he paced. This was an amazing feat  
considering how small and cluttered his room under the gables was. He  
stopped occasionally to sneer at a small poster on his door before  
continuing his pacing and cursing.  
  
The poster was of one of Ron Weasley's hero's: Viktor Krum. Ron's largest  
poster, of The Chudley Canon's of course, was stuck smack in the middle of  
the wall over Ron's bed. The Cannon's were the obvious focus of Ron's  
adulation, but Viktor Krum's picture was located on the back of the door  
where he could see it as he lay down. He used to lie there and day dream  
about meeting one of the greatest Quidditch players ever. Now, however,  
there were magical darts in the place where Viktor's face was supposed to  
appear. The distinctive orange uniforms of the Cannons could be seen racing  
around the poster scoring goals and grinning with delight, while Viktor  
Krum's poster was usually empty. Rarely did his craggy face and deep set  
dark eyes appear in the square but when it did, it was usually to glower  
back at Ron's narrowed gaze and curled-up lip.  
  
It was unthinkable to Ron that Hermione would even consider spending the  
summer at "Vicky's" place.  
  
" She hardly even knows the fellow," he argued with himself, "yet she goes  
to the ball with him, and puts all that rubbish in her hair to make it  
smooth and shiny... ."  
  
Ron broke off his thoughts there, disgusted by the direction they were  
taking. He was getting as bad as Percy was when he was dating poor old  
Penelope Clearwater. Of course, that hadn't lasted long after Percy began  
his job at the ministry. Perfect Percy couldn't tolerate any distractions  
from his work, and Penelope was one of the firsts things to go.  
  
"Percy's a real idiot." Ron figured. "Penelope must have been the only girl  
in the world who would have considered that prig kissable." He thought this  
last word with a shudder and a grimace.  
  
"I wonder if Hermione thinks Krum is kissable?"  
  
"Idiot!" Ron hissed, infuriated by this involuntary thought. He turned and  
ran from his room, down the stairs of the Burrow, past the clock with its  
hands pointing to "time to face up to facts," and out into the garden. He  
was going mad. What possible difference did it make to him whether Hermione  
liked Krum or not? Sitting there on the splintering wooden bench, picking  
at the peeling paint and staring at the gnomes lounging about in his Mum's  
beautiful garden, Ron admitted the truth to himself.  
  
"I like Hermione." He felt himself blush at the thought, but he was a brave  
sort who knew when the game was over. Ron stood up and turned purposefully  
back to the house, past the clock with its hands pointing to "never too  
late," and climbed up the stairs to his room. He picked up his quill and  
some parchment and started a letter to Hermione. He was ready for a  
rematch.  
  
Dear Hermione  
  
("Maybe that sounded too mushy. Maybe I should forget the "dear?" Bugger  
it! Just write you fool," he thought)  
  
How is your summer going? Have you made any plans yet? We should get  
together with Harry some time. I bet he could use a break from those  
disgusting Dursley's. I thought we could go to Welkie's Wonderful Water  
World.  
  
Yours Truly,  
  
Ron  
  
"Come here Pig. I have a job for you."  
  
Pigwidgeon dove towards Ron, narrowly missing his ear.  
  
"Calm down you nitwit. Take this to Hermione."  
  
Pig streaked out the window, bouncing off the frame, and was soon out of  
sight.  
  
Ron paced about again, regretting his decision to mail his letter, but when  
he looked up and saw Krum's beady eyes looking down on him, he bared his  
teeth at the poster and went over to rip it off the wall. He couldn't do  
it, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe he needed it around to remind him who  
the competition was.  
  
Several days later, a tap at his window woke Ron up. His heart began to  
pound when he saw that it was an owl. Pig had returned empty-clawed the  
very morning after he left, leaving Ron's stomach feeling queasy. He threw  
off his covers and jerked up the window to see which bird it was. It was  
the Granger's dignified Great Horned owl. Ron picked up the parchment and  
began reading the letter.  
  
Dear Ron  
  
(Ron blushed, then mentally kicked himself.) So far I have had a lovely  
summer. I managed to get through most of my reading list for next year, and  
I've spent some time researching some new spells. I think they will be  
quite useful, considering you-know-who is back.   
  
I would love to go to Welkie's Wonderful Water World. Viktor says they've  
added a ride with Killer Whales this year. It sounds marvelous. I think  
Harry would enjoy it as well, although I imagine anything would be better  
than his odious family.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Hermione Granger.  
  
Ron read the letter through several times. The first time he simply could  
not make any sense out of the words "Viktor says". When their significance  
hit him, he exploded off the bed.  
  
"He's bloody-well written her a letter!" The possibility had never occurred  
to him before. A second, more horrible thought followed the first. Maybe  
Hermione had decided to go see old Krummy-faced Viktor?  
  
"How could she?" He thought furiously.  
  
Throwing himself down onto his wobbly wooden chair, Ron grabbed his quill  
and hastily wrote another letter.  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
I suppose if Vicky thinks it is a good idea, than we ought to go. You two  
sound awfully chummy. Are you sure you won't be too busy with Vik to spend  
time with some old friends? Don't worry, Harry and I will understand.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Ron  
  
P.S. I hope you have a marvelous time at Viktor's place. Bring lots of  
woolies along, I hear it gets chilly there this time of year.  
  
"Pig!" Ron bellowed, then waited for the usually flurry of little wings.  
Nothing happened. He stomped out of his room and yelled at the household in  
general.  
  
"Where's me bleedin' owl?"  
  
Immediately he felt a hard boot to his rear end, and the sharp taste of  
soap in his mouth.  
  
"Mother...," Ron ran to the bathroom to get some water, when he heard his  
Mother's stern voice call:  
  
"You watch you language, young man"  
  
Ginny appeared in the doorway with pig cupped in her outstretched hands  
just as Ron finished his last rinse and spit.  
  
"Sorry, Ron. I was just going to send a letter to Hermione."  
  
"You mean she isn't too busy with Viktor to write?" He asked sarcastically.  
  
Pig seemed unaffected by Ron's blazing eyes and angry voice. He hopped off  
Ginny's hands and perched happily on Ron's head, hooting cheerfully.  
  
"You're just jealous!" His sister replied angrily. "Why don't you just tell  
her how you feel, instead of being such a baby"  
  
"You're one to talk. Why don't you take your own advice and write Harry a  
love letter, than?"  
  
Without bothering to reply, she ran back to her room, and slammed the door.  
  
Ron gave the letter to Pig and waited. He tried desperately to pass the  
time. He degnomed the garden, charmed the lawn, and even tidied up his room  
a little. He eventually had to give up trying to stay busy because he was  
starting to arouse the suspicions of his twin brothers, Fred and George. He  
knew what a disaster that would be. It seemed as if nothing could distract  
him from his worries about Hermione, not even the Chudley Cannons. The  
forgotten players in the poster flew forlornly around, not even attempting  
a goal. Finally, another letter from Hermione arrived. Eagerly, he grabbed  
the parchment and saw it was written in bright red ink. It looked like  
blood. Suddenly, Ron was afraid.  
  
To Ronald Weasley  
  
Was that your idea of a howler, Ron? I never said I was going to visit  
Viktor, but since some of my friends here seem to think so little of me,  
perhaps I should. At least he doesn't take me for granted. And don't worry  
about Harry. I've already written him and he understands perfectly. Which  
is more than I can say for you.  
  
Hermione Granger  
  
Ron reread the letter several times and grimaced as Hermione's letter hit  
him like a stray bludger. What had he done? Too bad Fred and George were  
two absolute pains in the behind, or he could have asked them for some  
advice. Ron thought of Harry, but was uncomfortable with the idea of  
sharing this with his best friend. Ginny! She was a girl. Maybe she had  
some insight into this horrible mess.  
  
He knocked on her door and waited for her to invite him in. When she did,  
he shut the door behind him, and got straight to the point.  
  
"She hates me. What do I do?"  
  
Although Ginny was kind hearted, she was Weasley enough to tease him.  
  
"About what?" She asked innocently.  
  
"Please." He moaned.  
  
"I already told you, Ron. Just tell her how you feel."  
  
"But Ginny, I can't do that." Ron said in horror.  
  
"Why not?" she asked.  
  
"Its...It's just not done!"  
  
"Why not?" She asked again, beginning to lose her patience.  
  
"It's, Um, against the code or something. A fellow doesn't just go about  
spouting off about feelings. Can't I just buy her something?"  
  
"Out!" Ginny said sternly, pointing to the door.  
  
Back in his room, Ron grabbed a quill, and some parchment and scrawled a  
letter in furious heavy strokes, more like a swordsman than a lovelorn  
wizard.  
  
My Dear Hermione  
  
Don't go to see Viktor.  
  
love,  
  
Ron  
  
Ron wondered if she would notice how he ended the letter. Though just one  
word, it filled him with terror. His face was grim, but determined as he  
grabbed Pig and practically through him out the window.  
  
"Bring it to Hermione. Quickly"  
  
He needn't have bothered adding the "quickly." Pigwidgeon never did  
anything slowly. A high pitched hoot was all Ron heard as the tiny owl flew  
off. In horror, he watched as Pig began flying in the wrong direction.  
Before he could yell, Pig circled around and headed towards Hermione's  
house.  
  
"Ruddy, idiot bird." hissed Ron in near hysterical frustration.  
  
Sleep seemed impossible that night. At breakfast the next morning, Ron fell  
asleep face down in his porridge, thereby giving the twins a chance to  
bewitch his hair so it was bright blue. "To match his beautiful eyes,"  
explained George with a grin. Thankfully, his mother thought that Ron was  
coming down with something, especially after his inexplicable loss of  
appetite. She sent him up to his room to rest. Fred and George kept  
muttering "poor ickle baby" as he got up from the table, but when Ron  
caught Ginny's eyes he saw they were sympathetic.  
  
Ron went back to bed and managed to sleep for a few hours, until Pigwidgeon  
returned. When Pig dropped the letter it hit Ron right in the face, and he  
awoke with a gasp. Ron had been dreaming about asking Hermione to dance and  
thought the letter was her hand slapping his face.  
  
Dear Ron  
  
I've already written to Viktor to say I can't come. I'll be too busy,  
especially if we're still going to Welkie's.  
  
love,  
  
Hermione  
  
Ron read the last two words over several times and sighed in relief. His  
long freckled arms folded behind his head as he lay back on his pillow,  
winking at Viktor's scowling face in the poster.  
  
"Sorry, old man. Looks like I won."  
  
  



End file.
